Knight Rider (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter One

          * * Dedicated to one of the greatest individuals anyone can ever meet, Lavannya. She is my long-distance sweetheart (no homo) and my moral support. Although she is not fond of fantasy-oriented stories, she still gives up her time to read mine. I love everything about you, Lavon! :D

          * * The image on the right was, additionally, created for me by Lavannya!

Chapter One:

Pounding footsteps. Clanking armor. Harsh susurrations of breath.

Those were the discouraging sounds that echoed through the woodlands, as ebon-clad soldiers rushed past in twos and threes. In total, a dozen of them made up the uneven formation. Each exhibited the intricate, yet familiar mark of Messiah on their bare shoulders: three auric devil-horned triangles that shared a distinguished center. They carried blades of a matching golden hue, encrusted with radiating obsidians and emeralds at the silver hilt.

At that point he had lost track of the passage of time, and felt a guillotine of failure hanging over his head. It felt like an eternity since he had escaped; an eternity spent fleeing through a dark maze of trees and bustling along the open dirt road, arousing the loose dirt upon the crisp earth and snapping several twigs as he ran.

They were almost upon him. He picked up his feet, running until his limbs shook with fatigue. Running until his breath came in short, raspy pants. Running until the pounding in his ears and desperate drumbeat of his heart drowned out all the other sounds of the chase. His efforts were of the best and only he could put forth, for his capture would not allow him the survival to try again.

Please. Please let it end soon, he begged silently, Let it end before I’m forced to stop. That would be the worst way for the end to arrive: going down, spent, defeated, and alone as death’s stinging grip approached swiftly.

With an effort to lose his pursuers, he veered sharply from the navigable path into the dense forest. The cloud of dust that had previously trailed behind him vanished in an instant, leaving behind hardly a trace that he was there. He only glanced back once and chuckled in satisfaction as the soldiers collided with one another, scrambling to regain their footing and resume the chase.

He noted before him the golden rays of morning playing over the grass, casting untrimmed, blade-shaped shadows across the ground. It turned the forest’s floor into a glittering mosaic of warm shades and colors. The evergreen trees overlooked them, seemingly stretching miles in every direction, and he found himself slowing his pace to a soundless dash as he swiveled through them, weaving in and out of their untouched cores. They were laden with dew, a concentrated moisture that was akin with his sweat-painted face.

“Which way,” he panted to himself, pausing to suck in a great lungful of air, and to push a rebellious lock of auburn-brown hair from his thin brow-line. He took that brief instant to brush a free hand over his trophy. Cradled attentively within his left arm was what appeared to be a bluish green gemstone that reflected the scenery of the adjoining pines.

Shouts behind him grew loud again, and he concurrently felt the breeze of an arrow that whizzed past his left cheek. Wariness surged through his body as another scratched the surface of the gem, leaving a permanent impression over the once unscarred shell. Spurred on by that, he quickened his pace even further. Soon, he was dodging several projectiles at once; a dozen arrows soared favorably around him, but he was not agile enough to avoid a thirteenth once that sliced the surface of his left shoulder. He grit his teeth together to keep from crying out in agony.